The Raven's Telltale Heart
by mabelreid
Summary: One Shot... Why is Reid afraid of the dark? A Halloween story. Reidcentric no pairings


_**Disclaimer: See my profile.**_

_**A/n here's something else for Halloween. The quotation in the story is from "The Raven," by Edgar Allen Poe. Enjoy! **_

Reid's fingers were flying over the computer keyboard, finishing an email to a friend from grad school, when the lights in his apartment went out. Thunder crashed over his head and lightning lit up the room at the same time. Then it was black again and his heart began thumping against his chest. His palms began to sweating and his mouth went dry.

The hair on the back of his neck was trying to stand up and goose bumps broke out along his arms. He hadn't paid attention to the storm that had been brewing since that morning, till it was right over his head and had taken out the electricity. He swallowed convulsively as another crack of thunder, followed by a brief flare of lightning made him jump in his chair. Now was not the time to have a good imagination because….

_Stop overreacting, you're in your apartment and no one is going to come out of the shadows._

Okay, that was good, just concentrate on the most important question. Where did he leave the flashlight? He made his legs stand up and walk away from the table to find it, even though he wanted to stay right where he was. Staying right where he was seemed like the best idea, he knew what to expect sitting at his computer table.

_Oh yeah… Do you really know what's behind you Spencer… There could be a very large, hockey-mask wearing, chainsaw-wielding maniac standing right behind you, waiting for you to turn around and…_

He muttered under his breath for that voice to shut up and then he said out loud. "Stop being a baby and get up. You know the flashlight is just down the hall in the kitchen under the sink. Just think what Morgan, or JJ, or Emily would think to see you paralyzed like this."

It seemed like a very long trip down the hallway when his feet finally moved him in the right direction.

The thunder kept crashing over his head, making him twitch and jump like some of the couples he'd seen dancing in the clubs Morgan insisted on dragging him to. When had the hallway gotten so long?

He finally made it into the kitchen after stumbling over the end table and nearly falling on his face. The blinds on the windows were up and he could see the rain, as well as hear it beating down on the roof of his building. Another flash of lightning lit the room and he found the cabinet under the sink. He slipped a hand inside and froze. What if something grabbed him?

_That's ridiculous... Stop stalling! _

He reached in his hand, knocked over some cleaning supplies, and what a felt like a box of dishwashing detergent before closing over the smooth surface of the flashlight.

_Good thing you don't have a problem with mice. Imagine sticking your hand into a trap in the dark. _

That was great, now his mind was coming up with stupid stuff instead of mind numbing horror. Which was worse, he didn't know.

He stood up and as his finger trembled on the switch of the flashlight, he saw a man with wild eyes looking back at him from the lightning lit window. He stumbled back across the kitchen and into the refrigerator. He hit his head on the freezer door, and immediately put up his hand to rub at the sore spot while screaming in terror and pain. His heart was galloping so fast he thought it might jump out of his chest and run away.

Then he looked back at the watery window and saw in another flash of lightning that the wild-eyed man was also rubbing his head and staring at him in shock. Then he realized the wild-eyed man was him.

"That's it… I'm going to find a book and do some reading." He told himself very sternly. "There will be no more jumping at shadows or reflections. You're taking the fact that Halloween is tomorrwow, way too seriously."

He clicked on the flashlight, and nearly cried with relief when the light came on and played over the white tile floor and the small table in a corner where he ate his simple meals. The stove and appliances were all reassuringly real. The battery powered clock proclaimed the time to be seven fifty eight pm, surely the power would be on in an hour or so. It never took longer than that, right?

He went to his enormous bookcase in the living room and played his flashlight over the titles. There were three that he had recently added to his collection and hadn't read yet. Maybe if he went really slowly, the effort would get his mind off his stupid reaction to the lights going out.

He began reading the first book and had finished the first three chapters at normal speed when his flashlight suddenly dimmed and then went out leaving him in utter darkness. The sound of the rain was gone and so was the thunder and lightning. It was completely silent, which was worse than the storm.

His heartbeat had begun to thump in his chest and instead of being reassuring that he was still alive and quite alone, it terrified him.

_It is the beating of his hideous heart! _

_Don't think about that!_

Well… that was easier said than done, when you're cowering in the dark and trying not to scream like a little girl. He was shaking like a leaf and his hands had begun to sweat again while he tried to think where he'd put another flashlight. How could he be stupid enough to let the batteries in this one get weak?

Think! Then it hit him, he pulled his phone out and let the small screen give him some illumination. It wasn't much, but with his eyes beginning to adapt to the darkness he could walk out of the living room. He headed for his bedroom, nearly running headlong into the doorway. His bedroom was familiar in the dark and he began to feel a bit safer.

_You're not going to cower under the bed clothes like a frightened child!_

He wished that was true, it was too early to go to bed, but looking for the flashlight he'd forgotten was impossible in the blackness. He pulled off his clothes and left them where the fell instead of trying to hang them up. He felt much safer under the quilt and sheets and even though it was early, fell to sleep quite easily. His conscious mind didn't register the change from the darkness of sleep before dreams, to the memory of childhood that became a dream.

_Eight year old Spencer Reid eagerly perused the shelf of books in his parents' extensive library. Having two college professors as parents, was a gold mine for the little boy and his insatiable thirst for books to read. Dinner was over and he was bored, so a book was just the thing._

_The first finger of his right hand skimmed over the leather bindings of the books to one he'd seen before, it looked new, but he knew it was old. The spine read, "The Complete Stories and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe." He knew that name, but only because his father had mentioned it in conjunction with one of his classes. Edgar Allan Poe was literature that his father's English Lit class always studied around Halloween. This must be a book of scary stories. Little Spencer felt a not unpleasant shiver go down his back. He loved Halloween and scary stories. _

_His hand closed over the book to lift it down for a closer look. The feel of the leather was one that he was very familiar with as most of his parents' library was older classics. His mother always told him that he could read anything he wanted in here. _

_He opened the book where he stood and began to skim the table of contents. The poetry looked promising. There was one that caught his eye called ,"The Raven." He knew that ravens were sometimes considered deities by some Native American tribes. The bird was also considered a trickster and a demiurge, a villain and a hero at the same time. _

_He looked down the page to the story section and saw the title, "The Cask of Amontillado." He knew what a cask was, a strong barrel used for holding alcoholic drinks. What was Amontillado? It must be some kind of wine. He'd have to look it up in the dictionary. A story about wine couldn't be very interesting, so he decided to look for something else. Then his eye saw the Telltale Heart and he thought that might be interesting. _

_He sat down on the carpet in front of the bookcase and opened it to the proper page. He'd just read the first three pages, when the door opened and his mother entered the room. _

"_Spencer… I've been calling for you for ten minutes."_

_It had been a good day for her. She had bathed, dressed and combed her pretty blond hair. He smiled up at her and showed her the book he found. _

"_Oh… I see you've found Poe. A very appropriate choice so near to your favorite holiday," She smiled and he couldn't help but smile back._

"_What's going on," his father said, stepping into the room behind his wife. _

"_Spencer has taken a liking to your Poe collection." His mother told his father with a proud smile._

"_I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you're allowing this," His father said._

"_What's that supposed to mean?"_

"_You let him do whatever he wants, and read or watch whatever he wants on television."_

"_He's a genius! He understands more than any other eight year old. You can't just sit him down in front of Sesame Street or Looney Tunes, and not expect him to get bored."_

"_He's a child Diana… an eight year old child! I don't care how smart he is. There are some things he isn't ready for." He yanked the book out of Spencer's hands. _

"_But Dad -"Spencer protested. _

"_You're too young for this… It will give you nightmares. Go to your room!" He shouted at the small boy in front of him. _

"_Stop shouting at him William."_

_Spencer left the study and went upstairs to his room. He knew better then to disobey his father. He could hear their voices rise and fall for the next hour, but he couldn't understand what they said. He could imagine it though. His heart was beating very fast and his eyes pricked. A tear rolled down his face, but he wiped it away angrily. His dad said that real men didn't cry. Spencer began to cry anyway. His dad was so angry all the time now. He used to be really happy and calm when Spencer was much younger. He knew that it had to do with his mother's illness. He wished everything could be like it was when he was four, before she's had her first symptoms._

_He cried himself to sleep. When he woke up, it was fully dark. The dark didn't bother him. He knew there was nothing there in the dark, that wasn't there in the light. He pulled the little flashlight out from under his pillow, for convenience only, and switched it on. The yellow light made the shadows jump and he ignored them. His goal was more important than wondering about shadows. He went quietly down the stairs and heard the clock in the study strike midnight. It was officially Halloween. He opened the door and went to the bookcase. He could take it, read it quickly, and bring it back to the study without his parents ever knowing. _

_He went back to his room and crawled under the bedclothes with the book and the flashlight. He was sure that his dad was asleep, but turning on the lamp wasn't smart. He turned back to the story of the Telltale heart. When the story was over, he could see why his father didn't want him to read it. It was very spooky. _

_A floor board creaked at the same time he turned the page to "The Raven," and he automatically turned off the flashlight. He listened hard for a minute before returning back to the poem. _

_Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore--While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door."'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door--Only this and nothing more."_

_There was a scratching sound from his window and his heart started beating fast. The light of the flashlight was soothing, but the darkness outside the blanket he hid under seemed menacing for the first time. _

_It was just a branch from the tree outside his window… That was what made the noise, nothing else. The poem was calling his attention back to it as though it had some strange hypnotic quality. It was short and he finished it quickly despite the scratching at the window. _

_There was another creak of the floor boards, but it was almost drowned out by the sound of a beating heart. The heart was thumping loudly in his ears and he couldn't make it stop. It got louder and louder so that he thought he might be going crazy. It seemed to echo around the room. He clapped his hands to his ears and screamed._

_--_

He screamed and thrashed awake, throwing the bed covers to the floor. He'd scooted back to the head board and clawed for the lights before realizing that they were already on. The power must have come back on during the night.

The relief was so great that his heart began slamming against his chest and he remembered the dream. It wasn't a dream though, it was a memory. The Poe story had given him nightmares. He remembered being unable to get out from under his blanket. He also remembered screaming and waking up his father, who'd been so angry that Spencer had been afraid he would hit him. He hadn't hit him, but he had yelled at him and his mother for half an hour afterward.

Was this experience where he got his fear of the dark? He remembered being afraid after that incident, but not why. He guessed it didn't matter. It was just the proximity to Halloween that was bothering him now. He looked at the clock and saw that it was just past midnight. It was officially Halloween. He'd go back to sleep and then it would be morning. He'd do what he always did on Halloween and enjoy it.

He reached over and shut off the light. It was dark again, but the sound of the heartbeat was gone. It was okay to go back to sleep. It was time to get over this crazy fear of the dark. He turned over and pulled up his blanket. Then, a low creaking sound had him up and out of his bed at a run. He pulled open the door to the walk-in closet on the north side of his room. It may have been childish, but he felt safer there. He'd get over his fear of the dark tomorrow.

THE END


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